Serendipity
by Deandra
Summary: A friend from their past returns to Eomer and Elfwine’s life. ONESHOT. Part 90 of the Elfwine Chronicles.


_**Part 90 of the Elfwine Chronicles. The Elfwine Chronicles are a series of one-shots built around the family group of Eomer, Lothiriel and Elfwine. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes.**_

_**A/N: Because several of you wanted to know more… This is a follow-on story to Leadership. Best to read that first.**_

**Serendipity**

**(Apr, 17 IV)**

_Edoras_. All his life he had wanted to come here. The finest horses in the Riddermark were surely here – found in the king's stables. With any luck, he would be able to join an eored, and spend the rest of his days as a soldier, on the back of a powerful war horse.

Nudging Mithlig with his heels, he rode the aging gelding toward the city entrance. Compared to his small village, the city was an awesome sight, crouching on the green hill below the White Mountains. He could not restrain the nervous twinge in his stomach as the gate guards let him pass, giving him an amiable nod after directing him where to go. They watched him ride off up the hill.

"A bit young, I would say," one observed.

His companion nodded, "Aye, but he seems eager. Maybe they will find something for him to do. Wonder where he got that horse, though. Seems a rather fine animal for such a lad." With no possible answers forthcoming, they turned their attention back to their duties and the visitor drifted from their thoughts.

Caffola had spied the training field just where the guards had indicated to him and, taking a deep breath, rode over and dismounted. There were a number of young men about his age undergoing sword practice in the arena, and a large man was leaning on the fence watching with a practiced eye. He turned as Caffola approached and stammered, "I…I am here to join an eored. Who should I see about it, my lord?"

The big man eyed him closely up and down, thinking he looked vaguely familiar, then replied, "That would be me. I am Lord Eothain. Who are you?"

"I am Caffola, my lord," he answered, striking a pose as close to attention as he could muster.

In the training ring, the goings-on seemed to have caught the attention of the men leading the exercises, and activity came to a halt as everyone turned to watch and listen to the exchange. Caffola tried not to let all the eyes upon him unnerve him, but kept his gaze fixed on Lord Eothain's chin. Unnoticed by him, Elfwine had edged closer, to better hear what was happening. He had not seen Caffola in several years, but he was certain it was the young man he had known and surely the horse was Mithlig.

"How old are you, lad?" Eothain asked kindly, but firmly.

It was clear that he expected an honest reply, and though Caffola was tempted to fudge a bit, with reluctance he confessed, "I am fifteen years my lord, but I will be sixteen in seven months." He gave Eothain a pleading look.

Eothain sighed. Much as he could feel for the boy's desire to join an eored, he was simply too young and it could not be allowed. Grasping his shoulder, Eothain told him gently, "I am sorry, Caffola. Come back in seven months and I will consider you, but until then there is nothing I can do. You are too young."

The boy's jaw tightened as he fought to keep his emotions under control. This had been his only chance. He could not go home. There was no home to go back to, and he would not make Mithlig suffer any longer at his uncle's hands. Turning hastily on his heel, he swung up on the horse and moved away before he embarrassed himself.

As the excitement seemed ended, Eothain turned back as Thaldur was just dismissing the rest of the lads for the day. Eothain gave them a few instructions, and directed them where to meet in the morning, then set them at liberty. As soon as he did, Elfwine was off in an instant, hurrying down the hill in the direction Caffola had ridden. The gate guards indicated the boy had left, but that they thought he was somewhere out on the barrowfields as they had not seen him ride further off down the road.

It took a bit of time for Elfwine to locate him, sitting and sobbing into his crossed arms as Mithlig grazed nearby. For a moment, he hesitated, knowing it would embarrass the other young man to be seen weeping, but only if they talked could he be of any help. "Caffola?" he called softly.

The boy jolted from his misery and lurched to his feet, staring at the other person who had joined him. It took several minutes before he seemed to realize who it was. "Elfwine?"

Elfwine nodded and took a hesitant step forward, smiling tentatively. "It has been awhile. I did not expect to see you here."

"You…you look different. Your hair is darker." Caffola thought his remark rather ridiculous, but he was feeling decidedly awkward under the circumstances.

Taking the initiative, Elfwine moved forward and pulled him into an embrace. "It is good to see you, all the same. Welcome to Edoras, my friend."

Gradually Caffola relaxed into the embrace and returned it. "It is good to see you also. Is your father well? And you?"

"We both are. And you?"

Caffola's face fell, and he turned away.

"Caffola? What is the matter? Perhaps I can help," Elfwine offered quietly.

Tiredly, the other boy sat down and rubbed his face. "I do not think so. Lord Eothain was very nice, but very firm. He will not let me join an eored until I am sixteen years and that is still seven months away."

He refrained from going into the details of his life beyond that, but Elfwine suspected that there was more to be told. "Well, I cannot change that. Even I had to wait until I was sixteen, but since you are here you must stay with us and meet the rest of my family. And Father will want to see you. Perhaps…would you be interested in working in Edoras until you are old enough? Maybe Father would be able to find something for you to do until then. It seems pointless for you to return home for so short a time."

The look in Caffola's eyes told Elfwine more than words; he had guessed right about what might help. For some reason, Caffola very much did not want to return to his village. Surely his father could find work for him here and give him a place to stay. "Come," he said, offering a hand to pull the other boy to his feet. "It is nearly time for supper. Let us get Mithlig stabled, and then we will get washed and I will show you around."

Elfwine quickly had found a stall for Mithlig, and supplied Caffola with brushes to groom the horse while he put the tack away for him. When he returned, he leaned on the stall wall as he waited for Caffola to finish his task. As he did, he became aware that Caffola was avoiding brushing certain areas and, as he looked closer, there was distinct evidence of whip marks, some still obviously tender. Feigning an interest in checking the horse's water bucket, he moved into the stall for a closer look, and as he adjusted the hay in the hayrack, he was able to get a clearer view.

Caffola had laid aside the brushes and moved to unfasten the tie rope from Mithlig's halter. When he did, the horse gave him a shove with his nose several times. Laughing, the boy hugged his head. "Be still, you! I do not have any treats for you, but I will try to bring you something later." He rubbed behind the horse's ears and the gelding bent his head lower to give him better access. After several moments, Caffola warned Elfwine, "We had best go. He will keep me here all night scratching his ears if I let him! He is completely spoiled!"

Elfwine could not help grinning, though the concern remained in his eyes. Clearly it was not Caffola who had whipped this animal, for there was no sign of fear or aversion to the boy. He would need to pursue this later, in private, when Caffola might not hesitate to speak freely on the matter.

The two headed up to Meduseld, Caffola's eyes flitting everywhere, trying to take in everything. After he had stopped several times, Elfwine laughed and caught his arm. "Would you come on! There will be plenty of time for you to look around! We need to wash for supper."

Hustling the boy along to his room, they began washing their hands and faces, and Elfwine changed into fresh clothes. Noting that Caffola had little with him, he asked, "Do you have clean clothes to put on?"

Flushing red, the other boy shook his head with embarrassment, not bothering to explain why he had made this journey so ill-prepared.

"No matter," Elfwine said, pulling out breeches and a shirt. "You can wear some of mine until yours get washed."

For several moments, Caffola just stared at the clothes Elfwine had tossed to him. He was torn about the situation, but finally decided it might be best to go before the king and queen in fresh clothing to make a good impression. Perhaps then they would let him stay and work here. Quickly, he skinned out of his dirty attire and into the clean things, and Elfwine pointed to a basket for him to toss his into for washing.

Moving to the door, they made their way to the Golden Hall, and the dining chamber off to one side that the family used most of the time. Everyone else was already there and seated, and Elfwine apologized, "Sorry we are late. Father, you remember Caffola, do you not?"

Eomer raised an eyebrow, wondering how this boy from the Westfold came to be at Meduseld and such a long way from his home, but decided not to ask too many questions just now. "I do remember Caffola. Welcome!"

Elfwine continued the introductions of his mother, Theodwyn, Theomund and Morwen, and then gestured for Caffola to sit next to his place. Theomund shifted down to make room for Caffola between the two of them, and attention was soon turned to dishing up their plates.

Conversation was kept general, and it did not take long for the family to make Caffola feel quite welcome. He had to resist the urge to scarf down the food he was given. There had been little to eat as he traveled, and this was his first real meal in several days.

Despite his efforts to hide his eagerness for eating, it did not escape Lothiriel's notice, and she kept passing dishes back to him whenever he finished anything on his plate, observing that growing boys needed to have plenty to eat. Caffola was blissfully unaware of her purpose, and dutifully ate more at her behest, until at length he did not think he could stuff in another mouthful.

Once the meal was concluded, the family continued to sit around talking for awhile before finally removing to Eomer's study to further relax. Though he had no siblings of his own, Caffola got on well with the children, and Theodwyn and Theomund had soon roped him into playing a game with them. While he was thus occupied, Eomer suggested to his son, "Come tell me how training is going."

They moved away from the three on the floor with their game, and took seats on the couch with Lothiriel. They were far enough away that if they talked quietly, most of what they said would not be overheard, and Eomer cast a questioning look at his son, hoping for an explanation. Softly, Elfwine told his parents, "He showed up at the training field, wanting to join an eored, but he is yet only fifteen and Eothain had to turn him away. When we were released, I went to see if I could find him and he was sitting out on the barrowfields, weeping. I am not sure what has brought him here, but I am certain he does not want to go home. Is it possible for him to work here until he is sixteen and old enough, Father?"

Eomer's eyes met Lothiriel's, and he quirked an eyebrow, his signal for her to give her opinion. "The boy was half-starved at supper. Whatever brought him here, he came unprepared. I think something is greatly amiss with him, and it might be wise for him to remain until we learn more of his situation, at the very least," Lothiriel observed.

Elfwine nodded, adding, "He did not even bring a change of clothes with him." There was a long pause in which it was evident he had more to say and his parents waited. At length he confessed, "He rode in on Mithlig, Father, and there are whip marks on his flanks. But I am certain they did not come from Caffola – the horse adores him. Something else is at work here."

Eomer's gaze flicked to the boy laughing on the floor, his unkempt hair falling in his eyes. While he pondered what to do, Lothiriel offered, "If I may be permitted an opinion, Eomer – and granted I am not the best judge of such things – all this boy talked of at supper was horses. Most boys his age, hoping to join an eored, would be rattling on about warfare and the like. Even Elfwine did so as the time to join drew near. I am not so certain this boy wants to join an eored so much as he is escaping from something, and I do not think an eored is the best place for him."

Lothiriel had always had a rather peaceful nature, and was not entirely thrilled about warfare in general, but Eomer took her recommendation seriously. One thing she did know was children, and she was good at reading people. She had not liked it, but even she acknowledged Elfwine's interest and ability at fighting, despite her concerns for him. He did not think she was making this observation idly or without cause. Truth was, Caffola had always been desperately interested in horses. While he appreciated war horses as fine animals, Eomer doubted very much that he was as focused on their purpose as on the horses themselves.

Nodding, he agreed, "You may be right, beloved. In all the times we have met, he has never talked about joining an eored so much as he has been enraptured with horses. Still, what of the boy's father? Is he not worried about him? Does he even know where Caffola is? I believe we must proceed carefully, and try to find out more, before I can decide whether to let him stay and help him find work here, or send him home. In the meantime, he can stay with us, and perhaps he will reveal more of his tale to Elfwine or one of us when he has been here longer."

Elfwine leaned back against the sofa cushions and told them, "I will see what I can find out from him when we are alone. I did not want to mention the whip marks in the stable in case it upset him and others should see. Somehow I think those may explain a great deal."

Lothiriel slipped an arm around her son and pressed a kiss to his temple. "I am proud of you, dearest, for going to such trouble for him. We will do all that we can to see that things work out for the best."

As Elfwine had to be up fairly early for training the next day, he did not linger very late, and Caffola went with him when he headed for his bedchamber.

Once they had settled into Elfwine's large bed, Elfwine laid there for several moments in the dark, debating whether to raise the issue foremost in his thoughts, but finally decided he would rest easier knowing the answer.

"Caffola?"

"Yes?" the boy replied, still trying to get used to the idea of sleeping in this fine, big bed in the king's house.

"I was just wondering…I saw the whip marks on Mithlig's flanks…" Elfwine paused, unsure what more to say, and he felt the boy beside him stiffen and go very still.

When at last Caffola spoke, it was evident he was trying to choke down his emotion and not cry. "I swear to you Elfwine, I did not strike him!"

Before he could say more, Elfwine assured him, "I know that. I saw you with him and he does not fear you. That would not be so if it was you who had done it."

His words seemed to calm the other boy, who finally stammered out an explanation. "My…my father died several months ago, and my uncle took me in, but he is a drunkard, and when he drinks he can get mean. Most of the time I am able to just stay out of his way until he sleeps it off, but sometimes when he is drunk and angry, he goes looking for someone to take it out on and…and a poor, elderly gelding is an easy target."

Elfwine could not miss the bitterness in Caffola's voice. Before he could respond, though, the boy added, "Elfwine, if your father will not let me stay…I want you to take Mithlig back and I will walk home. I will not take him back there. He does not deserve that. Please?"

Turning in the dark, Elfwine pulled the boy into his embrace and held him tightly, "I promise." For several minutes, he just held Caffola, sensing that he needed that reassurance of his friendship, and then he said quietly, "Get some sleep. All will be well. Father will make things right. I am sure of it."

With a ragged sigh, Caffola turned on his side, and Elfwine could tell that he was quickly asleep, likely exhausted from his harrowing flight from home. It took awhile, though, for Elfwine to set it aside and sleep himself.

xx

Though reluctant to do so, there was nothing else Elfwine could do the next morning but turn Caffola over to his parents while he headed off to training. There had been no time to relay to his father what he had learned about Mithlig and Caffola's situation, but at breakfast Lothiriel took the boy in hand as if he were one of her own. Sending Elfwine off with a kiss, she got Morwen settled in the nursery with Daelwyn and then herded the other three off to the Golden Hall for their lessons.

Caffola wasn't too sure about the idea of lessons, particularly since there had been little of that in his life to that point, but it was clear that the queen expected him to join them, so he hesitantly followed along. Once she had the younger two engrossed in an assignment, she took Caffola a short distance away and asked gently, "I do not know how much schooling you have had at home Caffola, so you will need to guide me. Have you learned to read and write?"

His face flamed at the question, but she reached out and stroked his head soothingly, "It is no shame if you cannot. There are many who have not had the opportunity to learn such things, but I must know before I can begin to teach you anything."

Swiping quickly at a tear that slipped down his face, he shook his head. "My father did not know how either, so there was no one to teach me. My mother died when I was born."

Pressing a kiss to his brow, she wrapped an arm around his thin shoulders, saying, "Then I will teach you. Both will be useful to you later in your life." Drawing him back toward the work area that was sectioned off, she seated him at one of the long tables and took her place at his side, beginning the slow process.

As it turned out, Caffola had both a quick and eager mind, and he readily absorbed her instruction, though he sometimes found it challenging and frustrating. But Lothiriel was extremely patient and by the time they broke for dinner, Caffola was feeling pleased that some of it was making sense to him. Wisely, Lothiriel had focused her efforts using horse-related words, which spurred his interest all the more.

Elfwine joined them for dinner, and had enough time before he had to go back to accompany Caffola to the stables and let him take an apple to Mithlig. Caffola would have gladly whiled away the afternoon in the barn, but Lothiriel had made it clear that she expected him back at the Golden Hall for more lessons. So, parting ways, he trudged back to Meduseld while Elfwine returned to the training field.

The next sennight followed much the same pattern and, by the end of the week, Caffola could read and write a few simple things. On days when training ended early, Elfwine would either show him around town, or they would get an escort and go riding for awhile. Caffola had not asked, but Elfwine knew he would prefer not riding Mithlig, who was getting on in years, so he provided another horse for him, and Mithlig was allowed to get his exercise in a paddock without the burden of a rider on his back. Even so, Caffola faithfully visited him daily to curry him and give him a treat.

Things had settled into such a familiar pattern, that it rather jolted Caffola when the king called him into his study one evening, along with Elfwine and Lothiriel. He had become comfortable here, but it now occurred to him that this was not his family and likely he could not stay here with them forever. Somehow, he was certain the king was bringing them together to discuss his future.

Once everyone was seated, Caffola nervously eyed the king. He had always liked and admired King Eomer, since the first moment they had met when Caffola was only six years of age. Now the king's eyes came to rest upon him and he found it difficult to hold the man's gaze.

"Caffola, while we have enjoyed having you stay with us here, I have been considering your situation and I believe I have come up with a plan that you will find agreeable."

Caffola's eyes flicked up questioningly, now unable to look away from the king while he waited to hear his fate.

"I have talked to Byldan, who oversees my herds and raises my horses for me. He has agreed for you to come stay with him, and he will teach you what you need to know to work alongside him. His family is grown and gone from home, so it will be possible for you to live with him while you are there." Eomer's glance twitched to his wife and he added with a grin, "And his wife has agreed to continue the boy's studies in the evenings!"

Lothiriel smiled approvingly at her husband, but made no comment.

Caffola sat silently for several minutes then, staring at his hands, he clarified, "You are sending me away?"

"No, I am not. I am sending you where you can learn what you truly wish to know – all there is to know about horses. You will be able to care for them and ride them all the day long. Does that sound like a punishment to you?" Eomer asked with a grin.

Ruefully, Caffola shook his head, "No, my lord…I just…I will miss all of you greatly."

Eomer smiled at the earnest sentiment; the boy had always been quite forward in his dealings with his king so it was hardly surprising he still continued to be so. "And we will miss you, but we will see you several times a year. My herd is kept in the Folde, so it is nearby, and Byldan comes to Edoras regularly to keep me abreast of how things are going and bring in new horses."

Caffola hesitated, but then asked, "What about later, when I am sixteen? Will I come back to Edoras and join an eored then?"

Despite the question, there was a notable lack of eagerness in the inquiry, which Eomer readily noted. "We will see about that when the time comes. It may be that you will prefer to continue working with the herds instead, but if you would rather be a Rider, we will let you try."

There was another long pause, and then Caffola asked, "What about Mithlig?"

"Mithlig will go with you and live out his days on the grasslands, rather than cooped up in a barn all the time. And I believe he will be happier if you are nearby to bring him treats!" Eomer assured the boy, and was rewarded with a dazzling grin in response.

For several moments, Caffola sat digesting all this information. Then, abruptly, he was up out of his chair and had rushed to the king, flinging his arms around him in a tight hug. "Thank you, my lord!"

Smiling, over Caffola's shoulder at his wife and son, he returned the embrace as he murmured, "You are very welcome, young horse master."

THE END

8/2/06-8/5/06

Elfwine is 16, Theodwyn 9, Theomund 7 and Morwen 3; FYI, Rider of Rohan took place in June of this same year

Byldan - "encourage"

**_End note:  It is best that you read the Elfwine Chronicles in the order they were written. The more of them that I wrote, the more likely I was to make reference to one of the previous ones and something that happened there. If you want to read them in order, go to the top of this page and click on my name (Deandra). That will take you to my profile page. Scroll down and you will find all the stories I have written. The Elfwine Chronicles are in order from bottom to top since ffn shows them in the order they were posted. A few were posted out of number order, but you can read them in posting order or number order since those few won't be affected in the story content._**


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